Two trees, two statues, and me,
For a moment we shared the same space,
Each of us, in a garden gallery,
Poised, for art sake, in the same place.
I entered this garden with a foreigner’s eye,
I was in this garden, but not part of it,
I took to this garden a sense of I
And with this eye, I’d never see the heart of it.
I turned to leave, but as I did,
As a statue does, I froze,
It was then that I became the garden, so amid,
And among, at once… I saw what was.
.   A sculptured garden submits to control
.   Yet, a sculpture garden has heart and soul.

© Tim Grace, 3 November 2010

To the reader: An outdoor art space – a garden gallery. A recent creation without the presence of rustic age. Bronze statues are anchored to the lawn, too carefully placed in position; posed not poised. The landscaping is suburban, the lawns manicured and the shrubs neatly trimmed. Without context the statues, like me, are foreigners to this garden. We search for meaning and find it in our common sense of separation. We too are one.

To the poet: In this sonnet there’s a growing sense of self in place, and a conscious positioning of ‘I’ as myself. The poem begins with a lock-step description of separate entities; emphasising awkward placement. The middle segment identifies myself as a poignant feature of the gallery. With static placement, I become another statue, and from that vantage point can bring heart and soul to its overall composition.

statues